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Friends With Benefits

Is it too soon to induct the bizarre bromance between Cory Booker and Rand Paul into the Hall of Fame of timeless odd couples? The two young senators’ budding relationship is probably one of the creepier examples of strange modern American politics. One man is a Tea Party-loving opthalmologist from Kentucky who once employed a former radio shock jock nick-named “the Southern Avenger”; the other a fast-talking, fast-tweeting liberal black ex-mayor of Newark.

Earlier this week, Paul, no Twitter slouch himself, even tweeted Booker a hearty congratulations on making The Hill’s 50 Most Beautiful list, and has since followed up with a handful of tweets picturing the two men together.

It’s all a little weird.

Still, there’s none of the infamous Felix and Oscar hate, where they seem visibly inclined to choke hold each other over the poker table.By Senate standards, it’s Best Man Holiday; compare it to the way Democrats and Republicans get along in the House, and it’s damn near Fifty Shades of Gray. Booker and Paul run it like Glover and Gibson in Lethal Weapon, especially when they are attacking lapses in civil liberties on everything from marijuana laws to disenfranchised felons.

If we didn’t know any better, we’d let the fan-boy few paint these guys as middle-aged BFFs itching for a last stand against The Man. They are probably one selfie away from being roommates, one more Millennial-pandering bill from sliding across Senate hallways in their socks and underwear briefs.

That’s all fine and nice, since we yearn for the warm, fuzzy comity and spit-in-the-handshake Hill days before Newt Gingrich hit the scene. But many of us prognosticators and snark allecks are so caught up in the No Labels-style optics of Washington’s new celebrity power duo that we’re fast missing the shrewd political calculus both lawmakers, particularly Paul, have factored into it.

Many gawk at recent Paul-Booker legislative collaboratives like hip-hop heads bumping to the next fresh mix tape. Few are asking about the motivations. Sure, we might recognize benefits in the push to reform drug-sentencing laws while giving non-violent convicts a new chance at a gig. And, understandably, we’re awed that in this climate a Southern Republican with designs on the White House in 2016 can team up with a Northeastern Democrat in a bid to completely script-flip the American criminal justice system as we know it.

But just as compelling is how it all fits into Paul’s schemes for electoral domination. Many liberals slept on Paul as a potential GOP frontrunner, quick to dismiss him as a babbling, libertarian-lite mini-Ron who stumbled through Aqua Buddha, Wikipedia rhyme bites and questions about his views on the Civil Rights Act. Look at him now. What observers missed were the converging trends that Paul – and his new sidekick Booker – didn’t.

This is a partnership based on two ambitious, jumpy pols with smart takes on the future: one who’s building his machine for the presidency and the other who wants to ride on someone’s coattail long enough to, perhaps, be noticed as a running mate or cabinet pick.

Clearly, anything about reforming pot laws and keeping folks out of jail wins over Millennials, a hot strategic commodity that’s enticing Paul and Booker to use one another. Paul’s greatest political asset is his unpredictability, and spiting conventional demographic wisdom could help Republicans defy expectations. Even with Millennials projected to make up nearly 40 percent of eligible voters in 2016, just because they’re young doesn’t necessarily mean they’re giving Democrats a solid.

Of course, it all depends on what the GOP primaries eventually spit out. Paul’s moves, including his Booker hook-up, suggest a bet on classic old-versus-new contrast – the reason behind that black-dude-with-the-non-Anglo-name’s meteoric rise in 2008. There’s no guarantee youthful spirits still geeked against drones, the NSA and pot prohibitions will be that ginned up over an old white lady who plays it safe and makes obscene amounts of cake on the lecture circuit (but, get back at me if Liz Warren jumps in). So Paul hopes that 2016 will look itself in the mirror and find wrinkles of 2010 and 2014: a built-up, anxious proletariat mess of anti-establishment pitchforks pitted against the establishment, including a jaded insurgency of young libertarians looking for Mr./Ms. Authentic.

Charles D. Ellisonis a veteran strategist and frequent politics contributor to TheRoot.com. He is also Washington correspondent for the Philadelphia Tribune and chief political correspondent for Uptown Magazine. Follow him on Twitter @charlesdellison.